


The Fall of Snow

by Laurielove



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Historical Inaccuracy, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Snow, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 05:39:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12905253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurielove/pseuds/Laurielove
Summary: As Christmas approaches, Victoria is desperate for snow to fall. Luckily for her, her wish is about to come true, but will her trusted Prime Minister indulge her?A Christmassy Lord M/Victoria one-shot for the VIcbourne Advent Calendar on the For the Love of Vicbourne Facebook page.





	The Fall of Snow

**Author's Note:**

> This is similar to Colours and Carriages in that it (eventually) involves Victoria and Lord M in a carriage together ... but it's such a glorious situation for them to find themselves in that I can't get enough of it. Written for the VIcbourne Advent Calendar on the For the Love of Vicbourne Facebook page. Join if you haven't. A whole lot of Vicbourne indulgence every day.

‘Lord M.’

‘Ma’am?’

‘They say it may snow later. With Christmas approaching, I do so wish it does.’

‘Snow, Ma’am? Oh, I wouldn’t wish for that. Frightful stuff.’

She looked up at him with a laugh, turning away from the dispatches she was supposed to be attending to. ‘You cannot say that! I adore the snow. Why only two years ago I built the most glorious snowman with Lehzen. He stood at least six foot high and had deep coal eyes and a carrot nose and … I sneaked one of my uncle’s coronets onto his head! It was a quite uncanny likeness! Oh, we laughed and laughed.’

‘Except for your uncle, presumably?’

‘I do not believe he saw him. Have you ever built a snowman, Lord M?’

‘Never a very good one, Ma’am.’

‘Or had a snowball fight?’

‘Certainly, many … when I was young. There was a rather unfortunate incident at Eton involving my house master’s study window, as I recall.’

She gave a tinkling laugh like the bells on a sleigh. ‘And ridden in a carriage at night with snow falling all around?’

‘I must have done at some point, although I am not sure if I can remember exactly when.’

‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful to do that, just you and I?’

‘Just you and I, Ma’am?’

‘Yes, in the deepest dark of night, the horses’ hooves muffled in the snow, the flakes falling against the inky blackness of the sky.’

‘You make it sound most poetic, Ma’am.’

‘And appealing?’

He cocked an eyebrow. ‘Well, the carriage ride could possibly be arranged … but I am not sure I can assure you of snow.’

‘Oh, Lord M, you disappoint me! And you call yourself Prime Minister!’ she teased.

He gave a brief, rueful laugh. ‘Others call me that, Ma’am, or rather, they have conferred it upon me.’

She looked up at him eagerly. ‘If it snows … will you promise me a midnight ride in a carriage?’

His smile faded and he looked down at her but avoided meeting her eyes. ‘It would be noted, Ma’am.’

‘Let them note it! I am the Queen – if I wish to travel to the North Pole, I shall!’

‘It would not be your travelling which would be noted, Ma’am, but the person with whom you are travelling.’

‘I am allowed to travel with my Prime Minister. We would be discussing important matters of state!’

He then did meet her eyes and paused before saying, ‘Would we?’’

There was something about his tone, caught with the slightest rasp, which made her belly twist. ‘Why yes … Whatever else would we be doing, Lord M?’

He drew in a sudden breath and turned away. ‘Speaking of matters of state … we must look over your speech for the Privy Council.’

‘It could snow in the next day or so. It is December after all … one would hope for some snow with Christmas near.’

Melbourne pointed concertedly at the documents spread out before them. ‘I have added an extra paragraph here, Ma’am, about provision for your Ladies during state occasions. If you could cast your eye over it and comment on its efficacy, that would –‘ He was ignored.

‘The sky is that strange ochre colour it can become before snow. Oh, I think it may well snow very soon!’

‘Ma’am! Whether it snows or not is inconsequential to the matters at hand!’

She stood up and rushed suddenly over to the window, tutting, ‘Oh, yes, yes, yes, the paragraph will do very well.’

Victoria pressed her palms flat against the panes and looked up, her eyes wide, her mouth agape. ‘Look! It _is_ snowing! I told you, I told you!’

Her exuberance was overwhelming and, with a sigh, he gave up on the Privy Council speech and moved to stand beside her.

‘Indeed it is.’ The snow was falling rapidly, flurries coming down with unseemly haste. He glanced at the ground. It had been frozen recently and white was quickly spreading across the lawns of Windsor as the soft brush of snow dusted them. He could only acknowledge his own swirl of excitement. It reminded him of times long ago, of sliding down hills, of stealing roasted chestnuts from vendors on the streets of Eton. He glanced down at her. Her cheeks were dusky with happiness, her eyes shining in wonder. She had never looked more beautiful.

‘Oh, Lord M! You will ride with me tonight, won’t you?’

How could he refuse? He smiled softly.

‘Very well, Ma’am.’

\--xoOox--

Melbourne had made the necessary arrangements. The carriage would be waiting for them at a quarter to midnight. He had been frank with Emma Portman; there was no point in deceit. After all, if the Queen of England wished to take a carriage ride at midnight then who were they to stop her? He had, however, lied slightly about a two-seater being the only enclosed carriage he could arrange in the time. Emma had quirked an eyebrow but no more.

At fifteen minutes before the hour, he waited by the carriage. It had snowed intermittently since starting earlier and now the ground was covered in a few inches of soft white powder. The driver would have to take care as they travelled out. Melbourne rubbed his hands together against the cold and stared up at the swirling flakes. The horses’ breaths clouded in the chill night air. They stamped their hooves impatiently, querying why they had been harnessed again after they had already been bedded down for the night. The coachman stared resolutely ahead. He had been paid to do so.

Soon enough, the Queen appeared, dressed in a warm wool overcoat and bonnet. He placed his finger to his lips to warn her not to speak. She humoured him with a knowing smile.

Emma, who had accompanied her, shot him a look of warning as he held out his hand to help Victoria into the carriage.

‘Half an hour. No more,’ cautioned Lady Portman coldly. ‘That should be enough to indulge Her Majesty’s yearning for snow.’

‘Of course, Emma. You can trust me,’ he crooned.

She pursed her lips. ‘It’s not you I worry about.’

He quirked his mouth and turned to the driver. ‘Take it around Home Park. Not fast.’

He climbed in next to the Queen and shut the door. The carriage started off, leaving the courtyard and heading into the park.

The Queen turned to him with a brilliant smile. ‘Thank you, Lord M. I can always rely on you to keep me happy.’

‘On this occasion it seemed straightforward enough, Ma’am.’

She looked out of the window. ‘Isn’t it the most beautiful thing? I feel as if I am in a story from a legend or fairy tale.’ He stared beyond her and could only concur. The snow was falling quite heavily again and cast a strange, otherworldly glow on the landscape. There was a gleam to it which seemed to be reflected in the joy radiating from the woman beside him.

She was so close he could feel her warmth, smell her perfume. It coiled its way around him and made him heady with happiness.

‘Perhaps we are,’ he mused.

She turned to him, bewildered. ‘What, Lord M?’

‘In a fairy tale.’

She laughed, that same laugh as before, crystal clear and intoxicating.

Impulsively, suddenly, Victoria pulled down the window and stretched her head out. She closed her eyes and let the snow fall onto her face, opening her mouth and trying to catch the flakes on her tongue.

‘Ma’am!’ he warned, although he did not know why. What she was doing was hardly dangerous, but her sudden recklessness alarmed him, or rather, it stirred him, and that he should guard against.

She pulled her head back in. Snowflakes had caught her: they hung on her cheeks, on her nose, her eyelashes.

She laughed aloud again. ‘They tingle on my tongue! I am hot and cold all at the same time!’

So was he, but not entirely for the same reason. ‘Ma’am … perhaps you should close the window. I don’t want you catching a chill.’

‘Oh, do be quiet, Lord M! I can’t have my dearest advisor turning into Lehzen!’ She giggled again and proceeded to place her head out of the window again. He found himself staring at her open mouth and the glimpse of royal tongue which was extended to catch the flakes.

At last, Victoria drew herself back in and pulled up the window before removing her bonnet to dust it off. ‘I knew this would be the most marvellous idea. Thank you for arranging it, Lord M. And thank you for coming with me.’ She turned to face him and gave him a smile of such illimitable joy it throbbed from his heart to his very gut. ‘It could not have been with anyone else. I only wanted you. You understand, don’t you?’

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ Her brilliant smile faded a little and the look she gave him shifted into one of startlingly knowing indulgence.  A snowflake was still caught on her eyelashes and instinctively, without thinking, he reached up with the back of his forefinger. ‘You have … here …’ His finger dusted the soft hairs and she smiled but let him. ‘And …’ there was another – barely, melting – on her cheek. He brought his knuckles to warm it but left them there for it to melt on him.

Her eyes glowed. He fell into them. His fingers remained on her cheek, soft, warm, smooth as silk. Silence fell as heavily as the snow but still he let his hand stroke over her beautiful face. Her lips fell open slightly and he heard the softest gasp.

She turned her head into his hand and, whether by intent or not, her lips brushed the back of it.

It was all he needed for hesitancy to be quashed. With reason paralysed, he threaded his fingers behind her ear and brought up his other hand to cup her face, angling it towards him for what would happen next.

And he leaned in and kissed her.

He felt the surprise on her lips but he did not draw back, he could not. And neither did she. Immediately her surprise turned to thrill. She coiled her arms around his neck and held him to her. With a muffled grunt borne of his own shock, he pressed his mouth harder to hers and felt his blood pound through him when she moved her lips under his, urging him for more. He obliged. He kissed harder, searching, daring, seeking out more of this woman to whom he had devoted his duty and his life and his heart, although he had never dared admit it.

He drew his thumbs over her cheeks and pulled back a little. Her eyes were wide with astonishment but her mouth smiled and she bit on her lip as if demanding more. He would give her more. He turned her head to kiss her as he would kiss the most knowing lover, and she learnt and knew immediately. The heat in his groin forced sense to flee; he kissed deeper and deeper, opening his mouth to breathe into her, opening hers and feeling her curiosity, testing, searching, finding her tongue and teasing her. When he drew back at last, he rested his head against her forehead while they both drew in breaths of recovery.

‘Lord M …’ she gasped.

‘Ma’am.’

And he was kissing her again. He was not sure he could ever stop.

This time he drew himself down her body, which seemed to melt like the snow under his touch. He kissed along her chin, angling her head up, holding it gently as if it would fragment if he did not.

‘Do you like that?’ he murmured against her skin.

‘Yes,’ she replied, sighing it out.

He kissed hot and open on the swan-like line of her neck. ‘Do you like that?’

‘Yes,’ she said again.

He reached down to unbutton her coat and slid in his hand to feel the warmth of her. ‘And that? Do you like that?’

‘Yes, I like it all. I want it all.’

Oh, he could give it all to her. Right here and now, he could do such sinfully beautiful things to her, things that would make her cry out for him. He found the warm, secret place between her neck and collar bone and stayed there, kissing, nuzzling, teaching her one pleasure after another.

His hand dropped to her knee. Every ounce of his instinct told him to draw up her skirts, to work his fingers underneath and find her.

He bunched her skirts in his hand, pressing down to feel the firmness of her leg beneath. She moaned under him and tightened her fingers in his hair, holding him against her. Her legs fell apart and his arousal screamed for more. He began to pull her skirts up, dragging his hand along her leg as he did so and feeling her open further for him. In all his long, lonely, forbidden hours of wanting her, he had never imagined how receptive she would be, how responsive. He returned to her mouth and kissed her with such passion it stole her breath away.

He could do it now. Have her, teach her, claim her. And it would be simply another step on the path they were treading together and as that it would be so good and so right.

And so very wrong.

Duty and sense at last caught him in a stultifying hold. Tighter, tighter it gripped, compressing the very air from him until he dragged himself off her and gasped in.

Immediately, she was grabbing for him, holding onto him, trying to draw him back to her. ‘Don’t stop, oh, don’t stop.’ Her voice was slurred with desperate desire. She slid a hand into his coat, twined the other through his hair to try to draw him round and capture his mouth again. But now, with every fibre of his being as sharp as knives compelling him to stop, he held himself back. Taking hold of her arms, he pushed her tenderly but firmly away.

‘No … Ma’am.’

‘But … you can’t, you can’t stop. I adore it, I adore you, I want you!’

‘Ma’am … you don’t know what you want.’

‘Oh, but I do, I do!’

‘Not now, not like this.’

Still the carriage trundled on, still he was as hard as rock and each jolt over the ground sent a painful reminder of thwarted desire to his aching groin.

‘You cannot tell me you don’t want it too, Lord Melbourne!’ She was practically sobbing and it tore at his heart.

He said nothing, but she took hold of his lapels and almost shook him. ‘You cannot say you don’t want me!’

He turned solemnly and looked into her. ‘No. I cannot say it.’

‘Then … have me. I give myself to you.’

‘No, Ma’am. You deserve so much better than I will ever be able to give you.’

‘How can anything be better than this?’

He gave a wry smirk. ‘You have much to learn.’

‘But why can I not learn it from you?’

He turned his attention to the outside, choosing not to answer. They were nearly back at the castle. Thank heavens he had not allowed his inclinations to take him further. He was not sure even his well-honed diplomacy could have explained away Her Majesty in a state of undress sitting astride the Prime Minister.

‘We are nearly back, Ma’am. I would suggest replacing your bonnet and buttoning your coat.’

‘Oh, Lord M. How can I return to any semblance of normality now?’ She heaved out a sob but did fumble at her ribbons to do up her bonnet.

A terrible oppression took hold of him and he dropped his head in shame. ‘I am sorry, Ma’am. I quite forgot myself and I should not have. I was overcome. I offer my most sincere apologies.’

‘Oh, but it was wonderful.’ She drew in the deepest breath. Sense was returning to her too. ‘Wasn’t it? Wasn’t it glorious?’

He turned to her and was relieved to see a smile capturing her kiss-bruised lips again. ‘Yes. It was.’

‘I told you … we were in a fairy tale.’

‘And now we must return to the real world.’

She gave a sigh of resignation. ‘Yes … I suppose we must.’

They drew up to the castle and, before anyone could see, she reached in quickly and planted the softest, most giving kiss against his lips. ‘Thank you.’

The carriage pulled up and Emma Portman hurried across the courtyard to greet the Queen. Melbourne stepped out and held out his hand to help her down.

She looked up. The clouds were parting and the moon broke through to shine brightly down on them. ‘It has stopped snowing,’ she remarked.

‘So it has, Ma’am.’

‘Thank you for the carriage ride, Lord M. I shall remember it for a very long time.’

He bowed modestly as she walked past him into the castle. ‘As shall I, Ma’am. As shall I.’

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, he's so noble. I'll make up for it with more Revelation very soon. 
> 
> Comments are ADORED as usual. And do join the Facebook group - For the Love of Vicbourne. You won't regret it. xx


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